


Break Bread On A Hill

by scatteringmyashes



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asexual Character, Asexual Fenris (Dragon Age), Asexual Hawke, Asexual Relationship, Asexual Sebastian, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Slow Burn, Trans Character, Trans Fenris, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-06-21 12:54:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15558150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scatteringmyashes/pseuds/scatteringmyashes
Summary: Fenris and Sebastian have been in a relationship for a while, and happily so. They both work at Our Lady Of Mercy, a soup kitchen and shelter in Lowtown. When the refugee crisis hits, they're both working night and day to keep the lights on, the soup warm, and the beds clean. But when James Hawke shows up, everything is about to change in Kirkwall… and in their lives.Current Sebris, future SebFenHawke.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GothicPrincessWitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothicPrincessWitch/gifts).



> _"As the People paused to break bread at the fot_   
>  _Of the hill the Tevinters called "the Lonely One,"_   
>  _Shartan stood on the hilltop and spoke, saying:_   
>  _"Some among you wish to flee back to your masters,_   
>  _To throw yourselves at their feet and ask forgiveness._   
>  _You have left that path. It is already gone."_
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you to GothicPrincessWitch for enabling me to talk about these three for hours on end. I appreciate it a lot friend ^^

Fenris cracked his neck as he finished folding the last of the blankets. The stack sat in front of him, leaning precariously to one side, but it would do — especially given how many other tasks he had to do. He could hear, out in the front room of Our Lady Of Mercy, Sebastian speaking quietly to some of the regulars. The refugee crisis was putting a strain on Kirkwall’s already lackluster support services, which made places like the soup kitchen/shelter much more vital than before. 

It didn't mean they got an influx of support, but the sense of purpose — even greater than before — was nice. 

“Do we have anymore diapers? There's a mother asking. Her child is about four months old,” Sister Bernadette asked, popping her head past the curtain that separated the supply room from the main section. Fenris glanced over to where they kept the childcare donations and frowned, shaking his head. 

“Give the mother my apologies, we are low on donations for everything it seems,” Fenris replied. He took one last look around the room — more like a glorified broom closet, really — before grabbing the stack of blankets and carrying them out. 

Our Lady Of Mercy was a small building comprised of a front room that was a soup kitchen and several back rooms, one of which was a small shelter for those who had nowhere else to go. The second floor was largely office space and where some of the sisters lived. It wasn't much to look at — the paint on the walls was chipped, the sinks didn't run hot water half the time, and if Fenris had to call an electrician to fix the faulty lights one more time he was switching everything to candles. But it was, despite all of its numerous faults, a good place. 

People could be fed, could get warm, and could get their lives on track in an unfamiliar city. Fenris did not consider himself very good with people, but he would have to be heartless to think the looks of appreciation and relief on the faces of those the shelter helped meant nothing. Besides, he still remembered being one of those people and he knew how important shelters were for the downtrodden populations. 

“Oh, Fenris, there you are.” Sebastian came over, a tired but warm smile on his face. “Thank you for those, love. I'll take them if you help Sister Elise with the soup.” He took the blankets out of Fenris’s arms and gave him a small kiss on the cheek. Despite himself, Fenris flushed and stammered out some acknowledgment before walking off. 

He heard Sebastian laugh and glanced back. Sebastian was talking with someone Fenris didn't recognize, no doubt a new refugee just come in on the most recent ship or flight. 

“Yes, Fenris and I are in a relationship. We are celebrating three years next month,” Sebastian explained. 

“Oh, congratulations!” The woman replied. 

Fenris smiled to himself and went to help Sister Elise. 

The day passed quickly, always something new to be done. A truck dropped off a batch of donations that Fenris, who largely stayed away from interacting with people directly unless they were Sebastian or one of the sisters, had to go through and organize. He didn't feel bitter about the work, far from it. There were several things of baby formula as well as more blankets and canned food, all of which would be useful, though Fenris did wish people would donate money more often. It was good to have items to give out, but that couldn't keep the lights on or the water running. 

A few hours later, the dinner rush hit. Fenris was pulled out of the storage room — where he was carefully stacking boxes of disposable razors on top of other hygiene supplies — to help with the line. Everyone got a bowl of warm soup, a piece of bread, and either some juice or milk depending on personal preference. It wasn't anything fancy but it was a hot meal and people could stay in the shelter as long as they wanted, which kept them out of the cold for some time. 

Working the line meant small talk, but it was easy work nonetheless. Fenris was used to it by now and could even refer to the regulars by name and ask where missing people were. 

“Oh, Rowan? He has a job now! Lifting crates at the docks. Said he doesn't need handouts anymore,” someone said, their lips twisting in a sneer. “As if he's too good for some help. Bah.” 

“It is good that he has a job. There will be more work soon for everyone,” Fenris replied, even though he didn't think there would be more jobs soon for refugees. Sebastian had explained to him the benefit of lies, though Sebastian had described them as “positive thoughts.” Fenris wasn’t sure they helped, but they at least gave people hope. 

_sometimes what people need is a little hope that things will get better,_ Sebastian liked to say. 

_And what happens when things do not improve?_ Fenris had questioned, back when he was new to Kirkwall. 

_Things always get better._

After the line had quieted down, the main rush having gone through and now just sitting and chatting, Fenris was taken off the line to help carry the now empty pots to the kitchen where they could be cleaned and filled for tomorrow’s rush. He passed by Sebastian several times and every time, without fail, Sebastian made a point of smiling at him. They were too busy to kiss or talk, but those little signs of support and affection were worth everything to Fenris. His heart skipped a beat and his chest felt full and his cheeks warmed and he thought about how _lucky_ he was to have someone so wonderful in his life. 

Even more breathtaking was the fact that Sebastian felt the same way. 

“Thank you, love,” Sebastian said when Fenris lifted another pot up off the stovetop. “Do you need anything?” Sebastian asked. 

“No, I believe that the Sisters are doing fine. I will sit out here with you shortly,” Fenris replied. 

Sebastian’s smile grew and he kissed Fenris on the cheek, ignoring the eye roll Fenris gave him. “Okay. I will be here. We have three more beds to fill tonight.”

“Three?” Fenris asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Joseph found a more permanent place and neither Lily nor Thomas have come tonight. I moved their things into storage but their beds… we need the space,” Sebastian said with a shrug. Fenris understood. There was only so much they could do. They couldn't hold beds for people who weren't there, and if they left belongings behind then the shelter would hold it for a week. After that… 

Well, Fenris knew people died or went missing all the time. That didn't make him feel any better about it. 

He was about to turn and leave for the kitchen when the door opened, the small bell hanging over the top ringing to let everyone know. 

A fairly tall man walked in with brown skin and brown hair, old leather jacket hanging loosely over a second-hand flannel. He looked a little bit like a debt collector Fenris had once seen terrorize a few stupid refugees who had gambled on a horse and lost. Fenris was ready to make it clear where the man could go as a similar looking young woman walked in behind him. She had the same eyes and skin and her hair was a little longer, but her clothes had the same well-lived look. And, judging by the way they seemed to be a little lost and overwhelmed, Fenris guessed they were recent refugees also just trying to find a place to stay. 

“They seem to be new,” Fenris said, nodding towards the duo. 

“Oh! Well, leave the pot there. We will go introduce ourselves.” Sebastian took Fenris’s hand and squeezed it before letting it drop back to Fenris’s side. Then, together, the two walked through the dining area over to the newcomers. 

Up close, Fenris would call both of them fairly attractive, if in an unconventional sense. However, they both had signs of rough living. She had dirt under her fingernails and the circles under both their eyes were hard to miss. The man’s hair was pulled back but Fenris guessed it hadn't been washed in some time. It was hard to tell if they were homeless, but they didn't seem to be wearing every scrap of clothing they owned so Fenris was tempted to say they weren't. Then again, it wasn’t always obvious. 

“Hello. My name is Sebastian Vael and this is Fenris Liberati. We work here at Our Lady Of Mercy. Are you looking for a meal, a place to sleep…?”

“Medicine,” the man replied. He focused on Sebastian, who was about the same height as him and didn't back down from the intense look suddenly aimed at him. Fenris privately wagered that he could still take the stranger in a fight. Few people expected the slim elf to be the dangerous one in the shelter and that mistake helped Fenris end most fights before they even began. 

“Medicine is hard to come by,” Sebastian replied. It wouldn't be the first time someone tried to take medicine, only to sell it on the streets not an hour later. “Who needs it and what’s the aliment?” 

“My mother needs medicine. She has a cough and a fever that won't go away,” the man explained. 

“Please, we only got here last week and we haven't found work yet. If we had any other options…” The woman — his sister? — trailed off. 

“How high is her fever?” Sebastian asked. 

The man glowered, getting a little closer to Sebastian. “What is this, a fucking interrogation? My mother could be dying! She's old and ill and—” 

Fenris stepped forward right as the woman put a hand on the man’s arm. 

“Brother, please. They're only trying to help.” She sighed and looked between Fenris and Sebastian. “My name is Bethany Hawke and this is my brother, James. We arrived from Ferelden last week and our mother grew sick on the journey. We had hoped she would recover once we were off that damn boat but…” Bethany shook her head. “It doesn't matter. If you have any cough medicine or even something for her headache, we would appreciate it. If not, we can be on our way.” 

Fenris glanced at Sebastian. He saw Sebastian take in their ratty clothes, their worn down shoes, the dirt that seemed to cling to them even as James rubbed his hands on his jeans. Bethany definitely looked underweight and James didn't look much better. He was pushing six feet at least but he couldn't have weighed much more than Sebastian, who was shorter and not a heavy man by any illusion. 

“Please sit and eat while we look,” Sebastian ended up telling them. It didn't seem like the response they wanted, but Bethany’s eyes lit up and James didn't swing at anyone so Fenris considered it a success. “I will fetch them some soup if you keep them company,” Sebastian said to Fenris. 

Nodding, Fenris gestured for the Hawkes to follow. He then led them to an empty spot at a long table where he recognized one of the people there. “Isabela, I thought you were staying with a friend now,” he called over. 

“I am, but my friend forgot to pay the electricity so we’re out of heat,” Isabela replied with an eye roll. “So I'm here until you kick me out.” 

“We do not kick people out unless they cause a disturbance.” 

“Exactly.” Isabela winked before noticing the people Fenris had with him. “And hello there. Are you two new? I’m Isabela. Unfortunate regular, but at least the staff here are pretty.” 

“Isabela, I will remind you that any workers sleeping with regulars is strictly frowned upon by the sisters.” 

“But not forbidden!” Isabela grinned at Fenris. 

“Please ignore her if it makes you more comfortable,” Fenris told the Hawkes. 

“Are you sure there's enough soup for us? We thought that it would be too late…” Bethany trailed off as Sebastian returned. He carried a tray with four bowls and two glasses of milk. Neither Bethany nor James said anything as Sebastian set it down in front of them. 

“We had extra tonight,” Sebastian lied. Fenris knew it was a lie because he had been serving soup and they had run out an hour ago. But he didn't say anything. “Please enjoy the soup. I will check on our medicine and see if we can give you any.” 

Fenris almost punched James in the nose when he reached out and grabbed Sebastian’s wrist. James saw the way Fenris tensed and instantly let go, holding both hands up as his eyes flicked between the two. 

“I just wanted to thank you,” he said slowly. 

Sebastian nodded, a smile still etched on his face. “Aye, you can thank Andraste and the Maker for helping us provide. And forgive Fenris. When people grab, they tend to want something.” 

“I didn't realize Fenris was your bodyguard,” James drawled, lips twitching in a ghost of a smile. 

“Fenris is not my bodyguard,” Sebastian replied coolly, smile disappearing. It felt nice to know that Sebastian was so quick to correct someone, even if Fenris knew that Sebastian considered him someone far more dear and important than a bodyguard. 

Besides, that word was — it was a weighted term for Fenris. 

“No harm meant,” James said quickly. He looked at Fenris and his eyes lingered. “Just — It’s always the pretty ones you have to watch out for.” 

Fenris squinted, not unused to compliments but never quite knowing what their intentions were. Was James flushing or was it a trick of the faulty lights? 

But it was gone as soon as Fenris thought he saw it and suddenly he was walking away with Sebastian. 

The two headed upstairs to where the particularly sensitive donations were kept in a locked chest — medicine and other first aid supplies, anything that could be sold on the streets for a lot of money, that sort of thing. As Sebastian went through their meager supply of medicine, Fenris asked,

“Do you believe them?” 

“Hm?” 

“Do you really think they have a sick mother?” 

That got Sebastian’s attention. He stopped searching, hands hovering over the chest. 

“I think that the Maker would want us to help them tonight. They came to us for a reason,” he answered slowly. 

“And if there is no mother and they return tomorrow, saying that they need more?” 

“Then we will decide when that happens. Do you think they are lying?” Sebastian asked. 

Fenris huffed and crossed his arms. “I think that the man is too jumpy to be honest and that the woman is simply to help sell a lie.” 

Sebastian hummed but said nothing else. Fenris, sensing that he would not win this argument, decided to drop it. Eventually Sebastian did find what he was looking for and gathered it up before heading back downstairs. 

“Here. It is not much, but it should provide a few days respite,” Sebastian explained, handing a small plastic zip lock bag to Bethany. He had given them a few headache pills and a small thing of cough syrup. In front of the siblings lay four empty bowls and two empty glasses. 

“Thank you, serrah. And thank you for the food. It has been… a while since we ate something so warm.” 

“ _Bethany,_ ” James whined, but he didn't seem angry. More… embarrassed. “Come on. Mother will be worried.” He stood and adjusted his jacket. This close, Fenris could see the torn edges on the sleeves and the small hole in the left pocket. 

“May the Maker guide you,” Sebastian told them as they left. Fenris waited until the door had closed behind them to shake his head. 

“That medicine could get them twenty silver with the right buyer,” he muttered. 

“Or killed over it in a fight. I know, Fenris. But we must give people the benefit of the doubt.” Sebastian pressed a kiss to the top of Fenris’s head and Fenris felt some of the tension release from his body. “Come, love. We need to clean and organize the last of the beds.” 

Fenris nodded, happy as always to follow the man he adored.

#

After the long night, Fenris was happy to curl up in the passenger seat of his and Sebastian’s car and let Sebastian drive them home. The two of them lived in Lowtown just a few blocks from the historic alienage, which meant rent was low, crime was high and Fenris wasn't the only elf walking around in an old jacket and used jeans. He liked it, though, from the street vendors who sold snacks to the fact that their little apartment was in the perfect place to look at the moon reflecting off the nearby ocean. On the best nights, Fenris could pry open the bedroom window and smell not just sulfur and gas and the other chemical smells coming from the foundry, but the crisp salt of the sea spray. 

The best part of the apartment, of course, was the fact that Sebastian lived there too. 

“Shower together?” Sebastian suggested. Fenris rolled his eyes as he kicked his shoes off, setting them neatly on the rack. He winced as Sebastian cracked his neck, the noise echoing in their little apartment. “Save water. Or something. I’m tired,” Sebastian admitted. 

“Do you want me to rub your neck?” Fenris asked. 

Sebastian laughed, pulling him into an embrace before placing a kiss on his lips. “You were falling asleep in the car, love. If anything, I should be offering you a massage.” 

“Exactly, I had a nap in the car,” Fenris replied. He leaned into the touch, breathing in the smell of sweat and tomato and old books and < i>Sebastian. Fenris was just tall enough to rest his head over Sebastian’s heart and listen to it beat, so he did every time they had a moment alone. “You work so hard, Sebastian. More so than anyone else there. I… am only concerned for your health.” 

“I know. But the Maker has given me a duty and as long as I can help others, I must.” Sebastian yawned. 

“I believe the Maker is telling you it is time to sleep. I can heat up some leftovers for us,” Fenris murmured, only to yawn too. “On second thought, shower and then sleep. The food will be there in the morning.”

Sebastian gave Fenris a tired smile, his blue eyes warm with love, and Fenris found himself falling in love all over again. He slowly stood up on his toes and kissed Sebastian, running one hand up his back and the other tangling in his hair. Sebastian kissed back, softly leaning into it, his arms strong and steady around Fenris. 

When they finally broke apart, Sebastian had a much larger smile. Fenris knew he was mirroring it. 

“Come on. We will feel better after a shower, and if you insist you can give me a massage then.” With that, Sebastian turned and crossed through their small front room towards their bathroom. Fenris, as always, followed. 

In the shower, the two did nothing explicit, nothing that would of had Isabela drooling, nothing that anyone would care to read about. Sebastian washed Fenris’s back, careful to kiss each scar that lingered on his skin and lavishing attention onto his vitiligo with the washcloth. And Fenris ran his hands over Sebastian’s brown skin, pressing kisses to everywhere he could reach and rubbing out as much of the tension from Sebastian’s neck as he could. 

Once they were done, Sebastian bundled Fenris up in a fluffy blue towel before donning a dark green one himself. The two got dressed in their night clothes and collapsed onto the bed, limbs tangled together comfortably. It was too cold for any one person and Fenris knew how fortunate he was to not only have a soft bed and a heavy blanket but also a loving partner laying beside him. 

“Do you have enough energy to read, love, or do you wish for me to read tonight?” Sebastian murmured, hot breath against Fenris’s forehead. 

Fenris debated the merits of both options. He was a far better reader now than three years ago, in no small part thanks to Sebastian’s patient teaching, but his head hurt and he really just wanted to cuddle with his partner. He decided to make that clear by groaning and shoving his head a little closer to Sebastian’s chest, arms wrapping around him so that he couldn't easily move away. 

Sebastian chuckled and kissed the top of Fenris’s head. “Sleep it is, then,” he said. He was not complaining. 

#

The first time Sebastian saw Fenris was on a cool spring night as Our Lady Of Mercy prepared to close. The beds were almost all assigned, the food served, and the last few medical necessities given out. It was not an easy time for those in the occupation of giving, but then again Sebastian had not picked this job to be one who got praise or money. 

He was scrubbing down a table where someone had thrown up when the front door opened, the small bell above the door alerting those inside. An elf, barely above five feet tall and thin as a rail, had stumbled in. His hair was a matted mess of grey and he was clearly bleeding from one hand — the blood was dripping on the floor. He looked like he had just murdered someone… or that someone had just tried to murder him. 

Sebastian heard the murmured concerns of the Sisters and quickly stepped in to intervene. He was taller than the elf, after all, and was fairly confident he could protect the others if a fight broke out. Of course, he would much prefer there to be no violence. 

“Hello there. Do you want to sit? You look hurt,” Sebastian called over. He glanced at Sister Bernadette and motioned for her to get some soup. They had run out for that night’s batch but there were always a few extra bowls set aside for stragglers. 

The elf looked at him and Sebastian found himself momentarily stunned. There was anger, so much anger, swirling in green that Sebastian felt as if he were looking in a mirror to the past. But there was hurt too, and fear. Whoever this was, Sebastian knew he was not a bad person, merely someone in a bad situation. 

“... I… do not know…” The elf’s voice was deceptively deep, a resonating timber that shook Sebastian’s bones. “I…” 

“May I help you?” Sebastian asked, stepping forward with his hands slightly outstretched. He did his best to keep his eyes wide and his shoulders down, to make himself seem unassuming and unintimidating. 

“.... Help how?” The elf asked. His every muscle was tense. Sebastian could see his bones through the thin and tight material that passed for clothes. For a moment, Sebastian wondered if the elf was a prostitute — he was wearing tight jeans and a threadbare, form-fitting shirt and Sebastian had seen what happened to prostitutes who got a bad client — but no. 

He was thin, yes, and clearly dazed but what weight he carried was all muscle. Sebastian could also see the way the elf looked at him and adjusted how he stood ever so slightly. It was a long time ago, but Sebastian had been in enough bar fights to know when someone knew how to throw a punch and when someone had _trained_ to throw a punch. 

And this elf had _definitely_ gotten into many fights before. 

“Just a warm meal and a place to rest. No strings attached.” Sebastian offered the elf a warm smile. “My name is Sebastian. What is yours?” 

A moment passed. The elf looked half a second away from bolting and Sebastian prepared himself to be disappointed. It always left a bitter taste in his mouth when people rejected help, even if he understood. But then the elf relaxed, sagging his head.

“My… my name is Fenris.” His head shot up, green eyes catching Sebastian’s blue. “I…. I need help. I… I believe I just killed a man.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did Fenris end up in Kirkwall? How long has Sebastian worked at Our Lady Of Mercy? What is Hawke doing and what happened to Carver?
> 
> Absolutely none of these questions and more will be answered this chapter, but y'know, they'll probably get resolved by the end ;) 
> 
> Enjoy.

While there were always regulars at the shelter, many also came for only a night before disappearing back into the depths of Kirkwall. Sebastian had explained that there were enough other shelters that some people had a circuit while others would find one with their favorite soup or slightly nicer beds. Sometimes one shelter would close from lack of funding and then all the others would struggle to compensate, and old faces would blur with new. It was much more rare for a new shelter to open — and then stay open — and thus remove pressure from the others. 

Regardless, Fenris knew that he should never expect to see someone twice. He had been very careful about befriending Isabela. Half of their relationship, after all, was due to the fact that she lived in the alienage, which meant Fenris saw her lurking around when he went on his morning walks. But of the other regular visitors to the shelter, Fenris knew names but little else. He had his friends and considered himself friendly with the Sisters of Our Lady Of Mercy. There was no need for anything else. 

Importantly, by keeping himself apart from the majority of the socialization, it meant Fenris had no qualm about throwing troublesome folks out of the shelter. A single nod from Sebastian — or any sign that someone else was being threatened — was all it took for Fenris to seemingly materialize out of thin air ready to fight. 

“You heard him,” Fenris hissed at one unlucky drunk. “Get. Out.” It was not too difficult to keep the drunkard in a tight hold, even if the man was over a foot taller and almost a hundred pounds heavier, if not more. Fenris had experience against _qunari._ Most humans were jokes in comparison. 

The drunkard, despite being clearly outmatched, continued to struggle. “He fucking took my wallet! He took it right out of my pocket!” Though restrained, the drunk made a valiant effort to point towards an elf who was standing as far as he could get with the tables and benches. 

Feynriel, because of _course_ one of the few elven regulars would be involved in something like this, shook his head. “I didn't steal anything!” He swore. “We were just sitting together and then I got bumped into him, that's all. I apologized and next thing I know, he's yelling and trying to hurt me.” The blossoming black eye on his face did add to his side of the story. It didn't hurt that Fenris knew Feynriel and the elf wouldn't hurt a fly, mage or not. 

“Shut up, you lying knife-ear!” The drunkard roared. With surprising strength, he managed to wrench himself out of Fenris’s grasp and proceeded to lunge at Feynriel. 

Fenris tackled him to the ground and then twisted his arm behind his back with perhaps a little more force than necessary. “You have already been asked to leave. If you do not do so yourself, I will force you.” He pressed down and did not at all feel a little twinge of pleasure at the sound the man made. “This knife-ear fights back.” 

There was a moment when Fenris thought he might have to send the man to the hospital — definitely not what he wanted but he had done it in the past — but then the man went limp. Fenris waited to see if it was a faint but then, once he was satisfied, released him. The man collapsed on the ground and Fenris slowly stood. He glanced over the room to get his bearings. 

One of the Sisters was checking over Feynriel while Sebastian ensured no one else was hurt. Fights were uncommon enough to cause a stir, but not so rare as to truly bother anyone and now that it was over most had gone back to their food. Fenris heard the bell over the door ring and a tall man with dark hair pulled back into a ponytail entered the room. It took him a moment to place the familiar face, but he soon realized it was James. Fenris couldn't remember his last name — Bird? Wing? Sparrow? It was something that reminded Fenris of birds. 

It didn't matter. Fenris rolled his shoulders and turned around, intending on asking Sebastian if there was anything he could do to help.

“Fucking knife-ears, ruining our city—” Fenris heard the drunk behind him curse and began to spin, resigned to fighting once again — 

But he heard someone shout and then a horrific _thunk_ followed by a crunch and then a gut-wrenching scream — the kind from someone who had just had their shoulder dislocated. Fenris was a little too intimate with that sound to mistake it for anything else. 

He fell into a fighting crouch, every fiber in his being wound tight, but what he saw took a moment to fully process. James had full-body tackled the drunk to the ground except James was not short and slim like Fenris. He was six feet tall and even though he was thinner than he should be, he still was big enough to loom over most. But that wasn't what had torn the drunk’s shoulder from its socket. Oh no, because on the ground was a gun and James was currently twisting the man’s arm with an almost cruel grin on his face. 

“You just try to shoot him again, I fucking dare you,” James spat. “This elf spends his days helping people and you were just gonna try to — to what? To fucking murder him?” 

“I'm sorry, man, I'm sorry, I just—” 

James pressed his knee a little further into the man's back. He didn't even flinch as the man wailed. Fenris crossed his arms and glared. 

“We do not allow fighting in the shelter,” he said. 

Sebastian shoved his way past the crowd that had formed, stopping short when he saw the gun on the floor. He immediately looked at Fenris, a clear expression of relief appearing when he reassured himself that Fenris was safe and relatively unharmed. It would take more than a gun to truly shake Fenris, but that didn't mean he wasn't on edge. 

“The drunkard attempted to shoot me, but James stopped him,” Fenris explained. “I was just reminding them both of the rules.” 

“He tried to shoot you! I stopped him!” James argued.

“You dislocated a man’s shoulder!” Fenris shouted, temporarily losing his calm veneer. He flinched as Sebastian placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing slightly and coughing. 

Fenris blinked and remembered where he was. He swallowed and nodded, stepping back and allowing Sebastian to take control of the situation. 

“Feynriel, go with Sister Elise. Fenris, please escort James to the private corner and wait for me there,” Sebastian decided. “I will see this man is brought to the hospital and that the proper authorities are contacted.” 

For a moment, Fenris considered refusing and demanding to go with Sebastian. But he knew that he would only be undermining Sebastian and that he could handle himself. This was not the first situation Sebastian had to manage and besides, the drunk had a dislocated shoulder. He was not fighting anyone. 

With that in mind, Fenris nodded and led James to the back of the shelter.

There was a series of bunk beds and small drawers that the shelter provided for anyone who spent the night. While the lack of privacy was difficult, the promise of a warm bed and protection from the elements made the space a precious commodity. Fenris could think of only a handful of nights where the shelter had an extra bed or two for stragglers or folks with particularly challenging situations. 

However, there was a single room that was a converted storage closet that Sebastian and the Sisters affectionately referred to as the private corner. It was barely large enough for a single bed, there were no windows, and the door didn't lock but it was private. 

Fenris, despite his absolute hatred of small enclosed spaces without windows, had hated sleeping surrounded by strangers more and found that an effective barricade could be made with a single person and the bed pressed against the door in the proper way. That added security had been just enough to let him fall asleep when he had stayed there. Fenris told James none of this, of course, as he led him through the shelter to the privacy corner. 

Fenris opened the door with one of the keys on his carabiner. He had keys to every lock in the shelter and he had to make sure no one could easily steal one, which was his fear with a normal keychain. 

The room was exactly like he remembered, though he could have sworn it was smaller when he stayed there. He still hated that particular shade of yellow. 

“Don't trust me in genpop?” James quipped, a small smile dashing across his features. 

“No,” Fenris deadpanned. He gestured for James to sit on the bed, leaning against the doorframe himself. 

“I'm not staying the night,” James said as he sat down anyway. “Besides, I'm far too large for this bed. Could have fit if I was ten, maybe.” His playful expression turned serious as his brown eyes flicked back to Fenris. “Are you all right?” 

Fenris raised an eyebrow, not quite sure why James was asking. James raised his hands and shrugged in a universal _no harm_ gesture. 

“It's not every day I walk into a shelter and see someone pulling out a gun. I thought you'd want the help.” 

“You dislocated the man’s shoulder,” Fenris repeated. 

“I was protecting you,” James replied. He was so earnest, so open, that Fenris hesitated. The look on James’s face was vulnerable, as if Fenris was a close friend rather than almost a complete stranger. Fenris — he didn't _not_ like it, but it didn't help that his nerves were already frazzled. 

“I can handle myself,” he insisted. 

“But you don’t — being shot isn't like anything else. It hurts and it leaves marks even if you get a healer. Which, y’know, no one is anymore.” James shrugged. 

Fenris decided not to pursue the _I know what being shot feels like_ part of the conversation. “You think mages are useful?” 

“I never talk politics on the first date,” James quipped, the corners of his mouth upturning ever so briefly before settling back into his usual scowl. “Seriously, if you're that mad I’ll just leave. I don't want to waste my time and I know you have more important shit to do than deal with me.” 

“Sebastian will wish to speak with you,” Fenris said. “You cannot leave until then.” 

“Cool, so I'm what? Under arrest?” 

A moment passed. Fenris couldn't tell if James was just messing with him, but he seemed to be genuine. “... no.” 

“Oh. Okay.” James looked surprised. “That's good to know. So, uh, do people usually try to shoot you?” 

Fenris smirked. “Not usually, no. And strange humans do not usually leap to my defense.” 

“Excuse you, I tackled someone in your defense. Any leap was part of the process.” 

“Mhmm. People do not usually tackle others in my defense.” 

“Not even the Brother?” 

It took Fenris an embarrassingly long time to understand who James was talking about. “Sebastian is not ordained. He… has decided to live in Kirkwall and serve the Maker, yes, but he is not an official member of the Chantry.” 

“Huh. Weird. Someone like that, he’s handsome enough and charismatic enough to make a life for himself outside of this dump,” James commented. 

“He enjoys this. It helps give him purpose.” Fenris felt a little odd talking about Sebastian without him present, but he needed James to know that — that Sebastian was not a normal, greedy person. Sebastian was good and loving and kind and flawed, certainly, but stronger for it. “Sebastian is a good man.” 

“Never said he wasn’t.” 

Fenris sighed. He had the feeling this conversation was liable to go in circles if they continued talking, so he did what came to mind which was not talk at all. James didn't seem particularly open to continuing the discussion either. 

He leaned against the wall, partially closing his eyes. Fenris was familiar with the technique. With the right head angle and the proper practice, one could appear to be asleep while actually being perfectly awake — and still able to see the majority of one’s surroundings. 

When Sebastian finally returned, about ten minutes later, James had begun lightly snoring to further the ruse. 

“Is he asleep?” Sebastian asked. Fenris shook his head. James's lips curled upwards into a grin. 

“What gave it away?” James questioned, opening one eye. 

“I am just magical like that,” Fenris deadpanned. 

“You certainly are magical,” James replied, both eyes now open. He didn't hide the way he looked at Fenris, but while usually Fenris would be apathetic at best or disgusted at worst, the vulnerable expression was back and it threw Fenris off.

James didn't look at him like an object or even someone worth a lot of money rather — rather like Fenris could decide whether or not James lived and James would welcome it. Like Fenris commanded the sun to rise and the earth to turn. Unsure of how to respond, Fenris coughed and looked down. James flushed and turned to glare at the door frame. Sebastian, on the other hand, had an amused gleam in his eyes. It disappeared as he entered the room.

“So, James, do you regularly fight people in shelters?” Sebastian asked. 

“No,” James grunted. He crossed his arms, pulling his feet onto the bed and looking more like a grumpy teenager being grounded than a twenty-something year old man. 

“Do you understand our concern?” Sebastian continued, not dissuaded at all. 

“No, I really don’t,” James replied. “I went in there and saved you from getting shot or someone else from getting shot. Yeah, maybe I was violent and aggressive about it, but what did you want me to say?” He adopted a faux high-pitched voice. “Sorry there, ol’ chap, but you gotta gun and you gotta put that down before you hurt someone!” 

“You are technically a private citizen. If that person wants, he can press charges—” 

James cut Sebastian off with a laugh. “Do you think that ass is going to show himself to me again? If he does, I'll break his fucking neck.” 

“We do not condone violence in the shelter!” Sebastian shouted. “This is a place of peace and support. If you cannot or will not abide to those standards, then we will have to ask that you leave and do not return. Do you understand?” 

There was a moment of silence. Fenris saw the tension in James’s body and hoped that it would not come down to a fight. Not because Fenris thought he would lose but because he knew that James was a good man. One who made many mistakes, certainly, and was most likely not the kind of person one would invite to a dinner party, but a good man nonetheless. And Fenris, who did not really feel sorry for the people he hurt save for a few, would feel sorry if he had to put James in the hospital. 

Not least of all because James almost certainly could not afford the expenses. 

“I understand,” James said with a sigh, the tension leaving his body. He seemed to deflate a little, shoulders slumping. “I didn't come here to get in a fight. But I saw someone pull out a gun and I reacted and you won't get me to feel sorry about that.” He looked at Sebastian, meeting his gaze with a suddenly challenging expression. 

Fenris had seen this before with other people who thought that Sebastian, by virtue of being the only human man working at Our Lady Of Mercy, ran everything. They thought that if they could fight him and make him listen, then they could do whatever they want. 

The first mistake was assuming they could beat Sebastian in a game of wills. The second was thinking that Sebastian was in charge. 

But, as Fenris examined James’s face, it wasn't a _challenge_ that he posed but rather a question. Fenris just wasn't sure what the question was. 

“All right.” Sebastian nodded and relaxed. James didn't seem particularly excited, however, even though by most standards he won. If anything, James seemed to expect Sebastian to suddenly turn into a demon and attack. 

When nothing happened, James sighed before shaking his head and plastering on the fakest smile Fenris had seen in a while. “So I know I'm wonderful, but I did come here for a reason and I’d love to get that done…” 

“You are welcome to stay as long as you would like, provided you don't dislocate any other shoulders,” Sebastian replied with a smile. 

“I’ll try,” James said. He yawned and stretched out his arms. His jacket looked like it had just been washed, but not by someone who actually knew what they were doing — Fenris could still see stains and the cling of dirt that had pressed into the leather by years of use. James had a bandage wrapped around one wrist and faded scars on his knuckles. The thin white lines criss-crossed against his brown skin, signs of a violent life impossible to escape from. 

Instinctively, Fenris cracked his neck and tensed his shoulders. Sebastian glanced at him and Fenris shook his head ever so slightly. 

James quickly lowered his arms. “Well, this was fascinating, but if you don't me me, gentleman, I’m done here.” James got to his feet, nodded to Sebastian and then winked at Fenris. He then stuck his hands in his pockets and walked past Fenris. The two brushed shoulders and Fenris once again caught his eyes. The depth there was startling. Fenris was so used to the gentle beauty and love in Sebastian’s eyes that seeing so much whirling emotion was almost overwhelming. 

But James did not linger and soon it was just Sebastian and Fenris standing outside the private corner. The sound of the shelter, working like normal once again, reached their ears. One of the folks spending the night wandered by, stopping when he saw the empty room. 

“What’s that room for?” He asked. “Why can’t I get one of them?” 

“This room is for emergencies only,” Sebastian replied. 

“Shit, man, my entire life is nothing but emergencies!” The man snorted but could tell that he wasn't going to convince anyone to change their mind and kept walking, but not before spitting on the ground. Sebastian sighed. 

Fenris hated the private corner. 

#

“You know, James is interested in you,” Sebastian said when the two got home. “Do you want leftover Antivian for dinner?” He placed his shoes on the rack before heading to the kitchen. 

“Of course he is interested in me. I am an elf working at a Chantry shelter, one of the few to accept refugees and—” 

Sebastian laughed, the sound echoing through the small apartment. Fenris set his shoes down and entered the kitchen himself, arms crossed. 

“What?” He asked. 

“No, he is _interested_ in you.” Sebastian opened the fridge and frowned. “Are we out of milk?” 

Fenris mirrored Sebastian’s expression, suddenly caught off guard. James… was a unique man, to say the least. He was so violent and aggressive one moment and soft spoken and cautious the next. It was difficult to imagine what Sebastian saw in James that made him think that James had — had romantic feelings towards Fenris. And it was equally challenging to understand how Fenris was supposed to respond. 

“Love? Are you all right?” Sebastian asked. 

“Uh, yes. What did you say?” Perhaps Fenris misunderstood. 

“Are we out of milk? I was going to make dinner.” 

“No, uh, about James.”

Sebastian looked over, attention garnered by the hesitation and uncertainty in Fenris’s voice. He sighed and closed the fridge before crossing over to Fenris. Wordlessly, Sebastian spread his arms and pulled Fenris into a hug. 

There was something inexorably beautiful about being held by the man he loved, Fenris thought. 

“I only tell you because I thought you would want to know,” Sebastian murmured, his chest rumbling. He was so warm — Fenris was hard-pressed to find a place he felt more comfortable than in Sebastian’s arms. “What do you think you will do?” 

Fenris shrugged. “Nothing. Most likely, it is an infatuation that will be gone within a week.” 

“Is that what you thought when I confessed my feelings?” 

“You had been caring for me for over a year by then. If it was a mere infatuation, it was quite a long one,” Fenris replied. 

Sebastian squeezed Fenris gently. “Well, it has not gone away yet.” 

The two stood there, holding each other, for several more minutes. Then Fenris’s stomach rumbled, breaking the silence. Sebastian chuckled even as Fenris poked him in the side. 

“I will make something to eat. You need to do your shot, yes?” Sebastian asked. 

“Oh, thank you. I had almost forgotten.” Fenris pulled away from the hug but then planted a soft kiss on Sebastian’s lips. “Do not worry, James may be handsome but you… you are the man I have chosen.” 

Sebastian snorted. “If I thought James threatened our relationship, I would be more concerned about how poorly I must be treating you.” 

“Oh, you don't think violent thug is my type?” Fenris joked as he headed to the bathroom. 

“If it is, then you met me far too late in life!” 

#

Sebastian sat on the roof of the Vael estate, his pajamas doing little to keep the brisk cold night from chilling his bones. He was shivering, but he hardly noticed through his tears. The ten year old tried to stifle them, but he couldn't stop a few from rolling down his cheeks. 

From his vantage point, he could see the entirety of Starkhaven. The Vaels were not only politically powerful, they were wealthy as well and they had a mansion to prove it. Well, technically they had three mansions, but only one was in Starkhaven — not like Sebastian was allowed away for anything other than official events. 

Which was exactly the problem.

Another sob started to escape and Sebastian shoved it back down, curling up so he could hug his knees to his chest. A breeze blew past the roof and he felt another stab of cold, his chest squeezing around his heart. He felt like something was — was ripping him apart. Like little chains had been attached to his ribs and something — or someone — was pulling. A little more and everything would come bursting out, a torrent of ugly feelings wrapped up in a set of plain blue pajamas. 

Sebastian's head shot up when he heard someone else climbing the roof. He scurried away from the edge, trying to tuck himself into the shadow of the chimney. But he still kept an eye on the edge, wondering who else was trying to climb up. 

“Sebastian? Are you up here?” 

Eyes widening, Sebastian scrambled forward. He peered over the edge, locking eyes with his grandfather, who was standing on a chair on the balcony. The older man had the same blue eyes and brown skin, but his hair was jet black and kept shorter than Sebastian's shaggy mess. Someday, Sebastian was going to dye his hair black. His parents wouldn't approve but, well, they didn't approve of much. 

“Ah, I thought I'd find you up here. You're always climbing when you want to escape your problems,” Grandfather said. There was a smile on his face but Sebastian didn't want his company. He scowled and crossed his arms. 

“What do you want?” He asked. 

“Well, right now I would like some help getting up there. My old joints aren't quite as good as they used to be.” Grandfather waited, patient as ever, for Sebastian to sigh and nod. He pointed out the hand holds and helped haul Grandfather up onto the roof. 

The two sat there together, in silence, as the half-moon glowed. Sebastian shivered. His nice and warm pajamas had been taken after he was caught trying to get into the kitchen after hours. He wasn't sure why — maybe to dissuade him from leaving his room? Maybe it was simply to make him upset. That seemed to be why his parents did most things. 

“Why can't I go with you?” Sebastian asked, breaking the silence. Grandfather sighed. “You can order Father to let me go, you can make him obey. You're the head of the family, he always says so.” 

“It is not that simple, Sebastian.” 

“Why not?” Sebastian rubbed at his eyes, not wanting to cry in front of his grandfather. 

“Your parents are still family. They wish for you to stay, so you must listen to them.” Grandfather reached out and ruffled Sebastian's hair. “Perhaps next year you can join me.” 

Sebastian shook his head. “I don't want to wait,” he complained. 

“Patience is a virtue in the eyes of the Maker.” 

A biting comment played on Sebastian's tongue but he kept it down. He knew Grandfather was pious and there was no faster way to upset him than to shun the Maker. 

Grandfather rest a hand on Sebastian's shoulder and pulled him close. Sebastian snuggled closer to him, the warmth and soft touch making him feel better. His eyes were sore and he could feel a few tears trickle out. He tried to subtly brush them away, but Grandfather saw. 

“You will see me again,” he pointed out. 

“But you're l-leaving and — and I'm g-going to be a-alone,” Sebastian cried. His eyes began to burn again, chest slowly ripping open. 

“Oh, my little prince, you are never alone,” Grandfather murmured. He pressed a kiss to the top of Sebastian's head. “The Maker is always watching over you.” 

Sebastian thought about the time his brothers locked him outside an entire night because they were bored, or the time Father had yelled at him for three hours about being a disgrace after ripping his nice trousers when coming back from a service at the Chantry, or the time Mother forbade him from eating with the rest of the family because he got a poor grade on a test — 

He wondered where the Maker was then. 

“Do you want to know a secret?” Grandfather asked. 

“I'm not very good at keeping secrets,” Sebastian admitted. 

“That's okay. I trust you.” 

“No one else does.” Sebastian knew he sounded bitter, but he couldn't bring himself to care. “I don't want any secrets. I want to go to Val Royeaux with you. I hate it here. I hate everyone here. They're all just — I hate them.” He huffed and pulled his legs up to his chest again. 

Sebastian half expected his grandfather to finally give up, to get off the roof and leave him to freeze there. But he didn't. He just sighed again and continued to hold Sebastian. 

“Maker, though the darkness comes upon me,  
I shall embrace the Light.” Grandfather looked at Sebastian, who was still sulking. “I shall weather the storm. I shall endure… Come on, Sebastian. I know you know the words.” 

There was a moment of hesitation before Sebastian nodded. 

“What you have created, no one can tear asunder,” the two of them said together. “Who knows me as You do? You have been there since before my first breath. You have seen me when no other would recognize my face. You composed the cadence of my heart.” 

“Trials 1. My favorite part of the Chant,” Grandfather said. 

“It's depressing,” Sebastian told him. Grandfather shrugged. 

“I suppose you may be too young to understand it.” 

“I'm not even that young. I'm ten, not a baby.” Sebastian crossed his arms and groaned. “When are people going to treat me like one?” 

In the distance, an owl booted. There were a few bugs out, but Sebastian could only hear them. He wished that Starkhaven wasn't so bright. He couldn't see any of the stars, only the moon. Even her glow was disturbed by a shady haze — the wind had been blowing Kirkwall's pollution up towards Starkhaven. At least, that was what Sebastian's father had said over breakfast. 

“You are my favorite grandchild,” Grandfather said. Sebastian’s eyes widened and he looked up at his grandfather. He shook his head in disbelief. “You are! Do you really think I would like your brothers more?” 

“But they're smarter and braver and betterer,” Sebastian argued. 

“You are the smartest and the bravest and the best.” Grandfather booped Sebastian's nose and Sebastian giggled. “And I know that you wish to leave with me, but you need to stay here and finish school. But I'll be back in a few months.” 

“I'm gonna miss you a lot,” Sebastian confessed. “And you know it's a sin to lie.” 

“Oh? I didn't realize I was lying.” 

“You don't have to lie to me about being your favorite. I'm not anyone's favorite.” 

“Oh, my little prince. You're my favorite, I swear by the Maker. And one day you'll meet other people who feel the same way.” 

Sebastian shook his head. “No, I won't. My parents won't let me.” 

Grandfather said nothing else, sensing that there was little he _could_ do to change Sebastian's mind. He simply sat there, giving Sebastian some warmth and company, until the ten year old finally fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr [here.](http://scatteringmyashes.tumblr.com/)


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